Altered
by EEevee
Summary: If you watched the commercials, talked to the trainers or admired the Elites, you get the idea that the world of battling and being the very best there ever was is grand. But how do the pokemon feel about it? Bred as a tool for battle and shuffled around from trainer to trainer. Or worse. What happens to the pokemon that fall through the cracks of this happy little perfect world?
1. Prologue

**Title: **Untamed

**Chapter: **Prologue

**Author: **eeevee

**Disclaimer: **This is a work of fiction that is intended for entertainment purposely only.

**Author's note: **As NaNoWriMo approached, I realized that I haven't written much in the past 3 years while I have been living in Korea. I decided this year to participate, but I felt I was really rusty. So I decided to do what I've wanted to do for awhile now. I'm re-writing one of my first fanfictions.

**Prologue**

A sharp gasp tore through the room, echoing slightly off the walls. The small brown fox-like animal gasped again as the skin along her flank rippled violently. She twisted around trying to reach the pain, to sooth it. Anxiously her sand paper tongue flicked roughly across the fur pulling out small tufts. Normally, grooming would calm her, but not now. The pain was too overwhelming. It seeped into all her conscious thought, the drum-like stabs of pain with an undercurrent of dull, thrumming pain riding beneath the surface.

Three tiny creatures huddled to the side of the box. The three cubs were so young that their eyes squinted a milky blue and their little ears were folded over into nubs. Despite hatching from eggs, young pokemon like these needed their mother's milk and care for at least six weeks, when their needle-sharp teeth grew in and their senses functioned.

Despite being unable to see or hear normally, the three cubs were upset. They could sense something was wrong. The two females mewed faintly, pressing tightly against one another and trembled pitifully. The lone male, slightly away from his two sisters, bawled loudly, his little pink mouth shaped in a tiny 'o' of discontent.

The mother couldn't stand it. Every single noise was like a sharp wire of pain cutting through her. She lashed out feebly as the noise, catching the male a solid cuff to the head. Unaware how close he had come to severe injury, if his mother had been at full strength, the male cub howled even louder.

The mother shrunk back, ashamed. She had never struck at her offspring before. But… but she couldn't stand this pain. She pressed against the far wall and looked up beseeching for some salvation.

"Richard, she's getting worse."

The mother panted and curled up tightly while the three cubs wobbled forward on stumpy little legs. She barely noticed them, sucked inward. Her tongue flicked in and out as her ribcage heaved.

"I know. None of the treatments have worked. I fear our concern for the pups may well have killed her. But I assumed it was a mere cold. You know how most mothers are after a litter is born."

A scraping sound and then the top came off of the box. The cubs squealed and crouched down in alarm. The mother gave a plaintive cry, trying to stand up and reach towards the towering faces that stared down at them. She lost her balance and crumpled into a heap of greasy, brittle fur.

"This is awful to watch. What are you going to do?"

There was an uncomfortable pause.

"Find a foster mother for the cubs. They are too young to eat real food yet. They need milk for at least two more weeks. I just don't have the kind of time it takes to take care of them myself. I'm too busy to play nursemaid to a couple of baby eevees."

"My niece could take care of them." The second voice offered, "She enjoys doing things like that. She wants to be a pokemon nurse when she grows up. It'll be good experience for her, right?"

A large hand descended into the box. The cubs hissed and tried to run away. The large fingers curled around their golden-brown, pudgy middles and the two females dangled passively. The hand disappeared for a moment then came down for the male. He was already tripping his way towards his mother. He crouched down in front of her and spat again. The hand simply scooped him up while another hand reached over to touch the mother. It ran lightly across her head and spine. She groaned at the known touch then whirled around as it became alien. The hand, though, made a calculated jerk back and a rumbling sigh pressed down around the little brown animals.

"What about the mother?"

"We'll do what we can, but sometimes all you can do is give them a little mercy at the end."


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

"Now, are you sure you want this one?" the professor gave a small, inward sigh as he noted the determined stance of the girl before him. Children seemed to think they knew everything about everything. Had he been that naïve once? It seemed so long ago. Yet every year it was the same. Children thinking that once they got a pokemon they would be the best of friends and nothing could ever harm them. "We've discussed why I haven't given this pokemon to a trainer before."

A mulish expression flickered across the girl's round face and she pursed her lips slightly. The professor gave another sigh, noting the echo of the girl's deceased mother in her demeanor. Of all the things to pass on, stubbornness was not the best of traits.

"I can handle Kolya. I raised him after all."

So she had. When the pokemon's mother had died of a severe infection, the girl had taken on the three cubs and hand-reared them. Of course, at the time, she had been too young to go on her pokemon journey. It must have been difficult for her to return the cubs back to the laboratory center once they were old enough to live on their own. It must have been even worse to see the two tractable, sweet female eevees being given away to other trainers, while the girl knew she couldn't be a trainer herself that year. No wonder she wanted the remaining male, no matter how difficult he was to handle.

"I suppose you have a point."

She did have a point; the professor just didn't think in this case the point was very valid. He shook his head partly in resigned and partly in some sadistic sort of amusement. With an expert flick of his wrist he released the pokemon in the ball. Normally the pokemon in his laboratory spent a lot of time ranging around freely and there was no need to confine them. He watched the red laser point hit the ground and then morph into a blob shape. The shape solidified around the edges of the pointy ears and triangle tail. The creature that appeared blinked a few times, showing no warmth towards the two humans standing before it.

As eevees went, the male looked like a normal specimen. He wasn't runty or sickly despite losing his mother at a tender age. His coat tended towards a mahogany rather than the typical golden-brown, but that wasn't abnormal among male eevees. They tended to be darker in color and more solidly built than their female counterparts. He wasn't big or impressive. But the professor never could seem to shake off the chills when he looked at the pale, flat eyes and the still as a statue stance. There was something not-quite-right about the pokemon. Something disconnected.

The eevee didn't move as he studied the girl that had raised him. For the past two years the professor had taken care of the strange eevee. The eevee was never a trouble maker, but he also never showed much interest in going with a trainer or play battling the other pokemon cubs at the laboratory. He would just sit and stare, a million miles away. The lack of interest in life had kept the professor from giving the eevee away before this. It seemed unfair to a would-be trainer to cripple their start with a pokemon who couldn't form bonds.

"Here boy." Chris beckoned, wiggling her fingers in a friendly way. The eevee tilted his head slightly but made no move forward. She crouched down in front of him and gave an encouraging smile. The eevee stared. "You know me. And guess what? Now you're mine. Thank you for waiting."

Oh dear, this child was particularly delusional. Well, there was nothing the professor could do. He had hoped the girl would come to her senses, but it seemed that she was determined to take the strange eevee with her instead of the nice little charmander or squirtle he had offered.

Silently the eevee raised his lip and lowered his head threateningly. She withdrew her hand quickly and the professor tensed, ready to throw the ball if needed. A fine sheen of sweat coated his upper lip and fingers. This wasn't going at all like he had hoped it would. Clearly this eevee was unmanageable. He never should've been lulled into thinking because the girl raised the eevee that the small, fox-like pokemon would actually bother to obey her.

"Now, now, none of that boy." The girl reprimanded sternly, still crouched down in front of him. She didn't put her fingers back out but she also didn't move back or take her eyes off the little snarling creature. There was a shadow of fear in her bright green eyes.

Both humans flinched as the furry pokemon launched itself with fluid, control grace. The professor threw the ball wildly, the missile spinning haplessly off his slick fingers. The girl fell backwards, covering her face with her arms. Neither one saw where the eevee went after he hit the dark green undergrowth behind them. They could merely hear a lot of rustling and snarling.

"What in the world…" the good professor swore, too scared to actually go into the bushes and look. The girl was crying from shock, still on her backside from the fall.

A moment later the eevee re-emerged with blood coating his muzzle and ruff. Unconcerned about the two humans, he sat down and started cleanly himself off.

Mustering up his courage, the professor peered behind the bushes. Nothing was there. Whatever the eevee had fought fled, leaving a trail of bright red blood behind it. But it was beyond weird. The eevee had never shown any violent tendencies before today let alone attacked furiously enough to draw blood. There was clearly something the professor wasn't able to understand about this situation.

"Professor!"

A slightly chunky young man puffed up to him. His face was red from running and he put his hands on his knees to catch his breath. On his feet were sandals; not the most sensible attire for running and certainly not appropriate for the lab. The lad must have been at his home and had run all the way out to the west fields to find him with some urgent news.

"Professor! I was told to warn you. There's been a renegade pokemon spotted near here. He's been attacking people and their pokemon."

Both the professor and the girl turned to stare in surprise at the eevee. He continued to ignore them and clean a slice that ran down his foreleg. Both were wondering the same thing. Had the eevee sensed the danger they were in and took action of his own accord? It certainly fit with his independent personality.

The girl wiped away a tear with the fleshy part of her palm leaving a dirt smear across her cheek. The eevee gave a small huff and stretched across the ground near her feet. He didn't seem relaxed exactly, just too tired to stand guard on his feet. The girl bend down to pat him and he scooted away just out of reach.

Clearly, despite feeling protective towards the girl, he would never be a friendly, open type of companion. However, for some reason the eevee felt he was needed with her and seemed content to the role. Perhaps it was one that gave him respect and purpose, something, the professor realized with guilty shock, the eevee had never experienced in his short life at the laboratory. Perhaps the eevee acted as though life wasn't worth living because, for him, it wasn't.

"Well, I suppose that settles it. You were correct, young lady. Here is your pokedex and some extra pokeballs. I wish you and your eevee…"

"Kolya."

"Kolya? Warrior, hmm. Very fitting I suppose. I wish the two of you the best of luck."


End file.
